


A Captured Beast

by Tsorin



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Wolf's Rain
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Hi I'm here to write the crossovers that never occur to anyone else, No knowledge of Wolf's Rain Needed, Non-Graphic Violence, Some tweaking of canon to Reasons, Wolf!Noctis, Wolf's Rain Fusion, how does the illusion work no one knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:31:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsorin/pseuds/Tsorin
Summary: "The children of the royal line of Lucis are never seen in public before their sixth birthday. This is not a rule of law. It is just the way things have always been."The Kings of Lucis draw their power from the crystal. The crystal draws its powers from something within the Caelum line. Something not human.Wolf's Rain Fusion





	A Captured Beast

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I'm here with another crossover no one wanted. This is apparently My Thing. Knowledge of Wolf's Rain not really necessary.

The children of the royal line of Lucis are never seen in public before their sixth birthday. This is not a rule of law. It is just the way things have always been.

An announcement is put out that Queen Aulea is with child. For three months she is photographed whenever she steps outside the citadel, Regis often at her side, the ever-dutiful husband.

‘Overbearing,’ the queen would correct with a laugh during interviews.

After three months, the queen begins to spend her says within the citadel, away from public eyes. For her health, the official statements stay. It makes sense. This is the heir to the throne, after all.

About six months later, the birth of Noctis Lucis Caelum, crown prince of the Kingdom of Lucis is announced. No pictures of the young prince emerge, even through reporters most reliable sources. This is not new, yet with every royal birth, a new attempt is made.

The first picture surfaces around the prince’s fourth birthday. He has the Lucian looks – the black hair, the piercing blue eyes. In the photo, he runs for the photographer. He wears no shirt, though a discarded one can be seen in the background.

The picture is the only thing on the news for days.

After the first, more are released, slowly, then much more quickly.

A party is announced for Prince Noctis’s sixth birthday. The entire kingdom seems to be invited to the main party. There will be a separate, smaller party for those closest to the royal family. It will be an occasion of celebration.

Queen Aulea is dead by the end of the night. Assassins from Niflheim.

There is a public morning, but not a funeral. Her place in the royal catacombs appears almost overnight, allowing the people to mourn their beloved queen.

Prince Noctis disappears from public view again. Then new comes of a monster attack and the prince’s illness. Silence. Speculation. Is the prince dead? If so, who will be the heir? Will King Regis remarry?

And then the prince reappears, apparently whole, but more withdrawn. At his side are two guards, if one can say that of a pair of children not much older than their charge. One, Gladiolus Amicitia, is expected. The son of King’s Shield, now, apparently, a Shield himself. The other, a thin, nerdy-looking boy, is the son of a noble line, intended as the young prince’s advisor.

Lucis breathes a sigh of relief. And if Prince Noctis reacts poorly to crowds and surprises, if he seems more protective of his guards than a prince should, if he is often found staring up at the full moon, what of it?

It is a miracle that he still lives, and for Lucis, that is enough.

 

Prompto’s fingers brush against Lady Lunafreya’s letter. He steels himself. He has been working for months to get to this moment. He takes a deep breath, then darts out from behind the corner of the school building.

Prince Noctis’s head turns toward him immediately. He pauses, seems to be sniffing the air for something.

It’s not him, Prompto assures himself. He showered after his run this morning.

They lock eyes. It almost kills the moment, but Prompto rallies valiantly.

“Hi, Prince Noctis!” he says, giving the quiet boy a friendly pat on the back. “My name is Prompto. Nice to meet you!”

Noctis doesn’t respond right away and Prompto begins to worry that he’s made a horrible mistake. Perhaps Lady Lunafreya was mistaken?

Then the Prince… then Noctis smiles and returns Prompto’s gesture. Unlike Prompto, his hand lingers, eventually sliding over Prompto’s shoulder.

“Don’t I know you?” Noctis says with a laugh. Prompto pushes the embarrassment away, taking the joke in the spirit it was intended.

“It took some time to get up the courage to talk to a prince,” he says. “Can you blame me?”

“I suppose not,” Noctis says. “It’s not gonna take you three years next time, will it?”

Noctis is not what Prompto has expected. The media paints him as a tragic figure, loosing his mother and suffering a horrible illness in his childhood. Lady Lunafreya had implied he was lonely.

The boy before Prompto, an easy smirk across his face, was nothing like either of those people.

Prompto found himself liking the real Noctis – “Call me Noct” – more than he could have ever expected.

 

It’s just little things here and there.

Noctis is way more sensitive to smells than anyone else Prompto has ever met. One time he had a bag of sour cream and onion chips for lunch and Noct banished him from their weekly movie night until the smell went away.

Noct hates fruits and vegetables with a passion. That alone isn’t too surprising. What is surprising is the way Ignis caters to his prince’s whims. Until Prompto begs Ignis to start including salads _at least please Iggy_ , all of Noctis meals feature meat, meat, and more meat. It can’t be healthy, yet Noctis seems to thrive.

For such a lazy person, Noct is amazingly athletic. At Ignis’s suggestion and Noctis’s invitation, Prompto begins to join in Gladio’s training sessions. Those sessions are the first time Prompto sees the magic of the Lucian kings in action, but he suspects that he and Ignis would be outclassed even without it. Gladio is the only one who can keep up with Noctis, and only just barely.

And Noctis’s _stamina_. He joins Prompto on his morning runs sometimes and no matter how long they run, Noctis never seems to be breathing hard when they finish. It is absurdly unfair.

They’re just little things. It’s just the way Noct is.

And then Noct is sent off to marry Lady Lunafreya and Prompto is chosen to accompany him along with Ignis and Gladio. And then the Regalia breaks down so they have to spend a night camping out.

Prompto is tasked with getting the campfire set up which takes him all of about ten seconds. Gladio’s grumbling over the tents while Ignis finishes unloading the car. Neither task looks appealing so Prompto sneaks away to go meet up with Noct, who has been tasked with finding dinner.

Not far from camp, Prompto stumbles across a herd of Anak. They are being torn apart by a fast-moving blur. The black makes Prompto thinks it may be Noctis, but when the shape comes to a brief stop, it appears to be a large dog. The largest dog Prompto has ever seen.

As Prompto watches, the dog chases a single Anak away from the herd and brings it down with a deep bite to its neck.

Prompto is looking at a feeding animal one second, but when he glances over at the herd of monsters for a second, then glances back, the dog has been replaced with Noctis. Blood covers his face and clings to his shirt. The look on his face as he meets Prompto’s eyes is horrified.

Prompto doesn’t understand what he’s seeing. It’s like something out of a nightmare. He turns to run but faints dead away.

 

“You would have had to tell him sooner or later,” Gladio’s voice says.

“There’s a difference between _telling him_ and him _finding me halfway through a meal_ ,” Noctis snaps. There is a tense undercurrent to his voice. Why is he worried?

“Perhaps the situation could have been handled with more delicacy if you had simply taken the initiative in the first place, as your father has been recommending,” Ignis says. “But what has been done cannot be undone.”

Prompto opens his eyes. The tent roof greets his eyes. The other guys are not to be seen, but the closeness of their voices means they are likely right outside.

He starts to get up, but the scene from earlier flashes before his eyes and he freezes in place. The voices outside go silent. After a few seconds, Ignis pops his head through the tent flap.

“How are you feeling?” he says. “Can you manage some dinner?”

It’s just greens, no meat in sight. Prompto eats quietly, avoiding looking over at the fire where Noctis sits. Gladio places himself between them, sitting next to Noctis by the fire.

Ignis eats along with Prompto, making a one-sided conversation until the meal is finished and the unspoken subject cannot be avoided any longer.

“Noctis was going to tell you while we were on this trip,” Ignis finally says. “He’s really very sorry you found out like this.”

“What… is he?” Prompto asks. Then he forces himself to turn to the black shape by the fire. “What are you?”

The story tumbles out, mostly from Ignis. How the powers of the royal family come from the fact they are more than human. How the ancient kingdom of Solheim hunted the wolves (“They’re wolves, not dogs. Like a coeurl is to a housecat.”) almost to extinction. How the wolves hid themselves and how they continue to hide.

When Ignis’s explanation dwindles away, the black shape by the fire stands up and comes over to stand in front of Prompto.

Nocits’s wolf form – his real form? – comes up to Prompto’s chest when Noctis stands fully upright. His coat matches the clothing he usually wears and his eyes, which seemed so off-putting in a human, seem so right for the creature before him.

Prompto slowly reaches out, then rests his hand along Noctis’s shoulder. His friend holds completely still, letting him explore as he wishes.

The fur is coarser than Prompto expected. He runs his hands down Noctis’s back, feeling the firm muscles there, putting two and two together in his mind. He steps back, taking in the view, then glances over to Ignis and Gladio for their reactions. They watch him with a protective look in their eyes.

When Prompto looks back, Noct is in his human form again.

All three are waiting for his reaction.

And what is his reaction? Noctis is his closest friend. Noctis lied to him. Noctis will binge-watch a whole TV series with him over the weekend, not stopping for sleep until the series is over. Noctis hadn’t told him.

He grips his right wrist with his left hand, closing over the barcode hidden beneath.

Noctis isn’t the only one with secrets.

There really is only one reaction he can have.

“So where do your clothes go?” he asks with a grin.

**Author's Note:**

> I may write more but in case I don't:
> 
> \- Luna is the lunar flower who will lead Noctis to his destiny. She doesn't die until the very end, at Noctis's side.  
> \- Aulea gave birth after three months, so Noct is actually 6 months older than his official age.  
> \- The reason they wait until Noct is six before they show him to the public is because it takes time for him to learn how to hold the human illusion.  
> \- Pact cuddle piles are totally a thing.  
> \- Ardyn is totally Darcia.


End file.
